


Just a fact

by The_Hobbit_Ninja



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Cliffhangers, Fluff, Gangs, Investigation, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, actual plotline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hobbit_Ninja/pseuds/The_Hobbit_Ninja
Summary: "My mom spent her whole life chasing dirtbags, and I hated her for it. I swore to myself at age six that I’d look for the nice ones. I’d go after guys who actually gave a crap about me, or better yet have them find me. I was the whole waiting-for-the-prince-to-sweep-me-off-my-feet type girl. I promised I’d show my kids a healthy relationship. I wouldn’t repeat the single-mom-sleeping-around mistake I lived with for eighteen years. Well, by the time I was sixteen I decided I didn’t want kids, got drunk, and gave up on my little six-year-old ideals. I’m shocked that I made it through so many years before Jessie and Billie showed up. Either way, I’m showing them what I swore I wouldn’t. When prince charming didn’t show up on time I just went for douchebags. My girls…” she hated that her voice was getting shaky “they’re gonna grow up thinking they don’t deserve love, scared of being happy-” her voice cracked right in half at that point. Carisi took one hand off the wheel and took hers. His hand felt warm, calloused, grounding...good. She let it stay there for a second, before remembering that this was dangerous. She shook off his hand and forced her stupid voice to cooperate.
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Comments: 34
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! As everyone knows SVU is one of the Top Ten Ways To Deal With Hating Life During Quarantine, as is Writing Copious Amounts of Overly Detailed Fanfiction. So welcome to this story. I honestly don't even know if I'm going to finish it, so let me know in the comments if you want more of it! If no one wants it I shall discontinue the product lol. 
> 
> I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe  
> That I'm in too deep  
> And jealousy, jealousy, jealousy, jealousy  
> Get the best in me  
> Look, I don't mean to frustrate, but I  
> Always make the same mistakes, yeah I  
> Always make the same mistakes 'cause  
> I'm bad at love  
> But you can't blame me for tryin'  
> You know I'd be lyin' sayin'  
> You were the one  
> That could finally fix me  
> Lookin' at my history  
> I'm bad at love 
> 
> ~Halsey

10:06pm

She walked down the street--a street swarming with a multitude of bustling bodies and making her feel utterly insignificant--hating herself with a passion. It was almost a good feeling. Giving up on all the cliche affirmations and just HATING herself on PURPOSE. Words bumped around in her head on repeat, bouncing from side to side like the little “server not found” icon on the computer screen. Ugly words, words she hated but clung to to survive. Worthless. Unlovable. Not good enough. Easy. Dysfunctional. Bad example. That one stung the worst. Bad example. She was showing her girls someone who didn’t deserve love. Real love. Not the one night stands she modeled. Not the thin “love” forged by pregnancy. Real love, from a man who saw more than her body. Wanted more than a few short hours of gratification, maybe nine months of obligatory caring. Someone that actually LOVED her. Wanted her in the best way. She had a picture of the person in the back of her brain, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. She would not let herself go down that path. That way led to risk, investment, reality. Led to something so good she didn’t want to let it in. No, she didn’t deserve that, him, that person that could give her- no. She wasn’t worthy of that kind of love. She hated it, hated herself for thinking it, but still knew it was true. Something burned behind her eyes. Boiling water, waiting to seep out of her eyes in an admission of weakness. No.  
Brrringbrrrring  
The phone vibrated in her pocket. Glad of the distraction she pulled it out and took the call before the second ring.  
“Rollins” She said, on auto pilot.  
“What? Of course, I’ll be right there, on my way.”  
She stuffed the phone back in her pocket and picked up her pace, thanking heaven and earth and everything in between that she hadn’t worn the heels she had considered. After shoving her way through the NYC crowds, not really caring if she literally and figuratively stepped on toes, she called a taxi and flopped into the peeling fake leather seat, breathing hard. She quickly dialed the babysitter’s number on her phone, and told the girl watching Jessie and Billie that she’d pay her twice the hourly rate agreed upon if she’d stay another few hours with the kids. After what seemed far too short a time (she was half way asleep in the backseat, after all it was 10pm and she had barely slept the night before for no apparent reason) the driver dropped her off. It was far too late for work in Amanda’s book, but the job called for being up and ready at all times, even if one would rather die than go after one more fucking bad guy.  
“Great, Rollins, you’re here.” Olivia’s matter-of-fact voice was grounding. “Sorry to call you out so late, you got someone for the girls?”  
“Yeah I’m paying the poor girl watching ‘em double to stay over.”  
“Well, that’ll have to do, I guess. Anyway, we’ve got a someone in here you’ll need to see. Says she was gang raped in an alley and left there to rot, and the physical backs up the story. It was dark so she could only give us vague descriptions of the attackers, but from what she could give us it aligns very well with the gang we lost last year.”  
“You mean Blu J? The ones that disappeared off the map entirely never to be seen again?”  
“Looks like it.” Olivia’s face was grim. She had the pinched face that she always wore when confronted with one of the battered victims they encountered so often. Rollins had (selfishly, she admitted) rejoiced when the heroine-selling gang “Blu J” with a tendency toward kidnapping and violence seemed to disappear off the face of the earth, or at least the face of NYC and surrounding areas. As much as she wanted the victims to see their day in court, she wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t have to walk through literal fire to retrieve violent rapists.  
“Ok.” Amanda felt too drained to come face to face with suffering embodied in one teenage girl. “I’ll see what she can tell me.”  
“Make it quick.” Carisi emerged from somewhere. The fluorescent lights were throwing Rollins off. “If we’ve got any shot at catching them we gotta get moving quick.”  
After a brief conversation with the poor specimen of ruined girlhood in the adjoining room, Rollins emerged with a little more information.  
“What she could give me was a bit of the license plate. She said it had a Q in it, and 303 in the numbers slot. That should give us something to go on. She couldn’t get a good look at the make model and color of the car, but she remembered it revved up real loud and smoky, smelling like old fuel and all.”  
“So they aren’t THAT good at hiding their tracks. What do you do to get information out of her that she conveniently withheld previously?” Carisi gave her an indescribable look. He was sipping his perpetual coffee. Hopeless addict, she thought.  
“Any idea where they might be headed? Liv, you good?” Olivia was staring absently through the little window at the girl, not more than 17, sitting shaking on the edge of the hospital-style bed. The girl was rocking slightly back and forth, tears streaming silently down her face. If it was possible to wrap someone in a hug through a wall from twenty feet away, that is what Olivia was doing. She jerked out of her daze at Carisi’s question.  
“We don’t know for sure, but there’s a warehouse a good way upstate that is suspected as a small scale drug trading hub. Previously we thought it wasn’t a priority, small time illegal pain meds dispensary or something like that, but it’s possible it’s more than we thought.”  
“Well then we better get on it, standing here isn’t going to get that girl justice.” Carisi was the type to get immediately fired up on behalf of every bedraggled specimen of humanity that stumbled into the precinct, from prostitutes to druggies to rape victims. His “sense of justice” (what Rollins privately categorized as bottled up aggression that a psychologist would have a field day analyzing coated in abnormally uncompromising compassion) was clearly being exacerbated by caffeine at 11pm.  
“Right, of course.” Olivia usually was all business, but for some reason this girl or case or whatever was different was getting to her tonight.  
“Rollins, Carisi, and I will peel out towards the innocent little warehouse. Finn, canvas the area around the crime scene and see if you can get any information from possible witnesses. Make sure the area is locked down and just try to dig up something useful. Get officers on every major street corner and have them look out for a Q - - 303 plate. You know the drill”  
“Got it cap’n” Rollins always wondered whether Finn’s occasional slan-ridden one-liner type remarks were accidental.  
“Rollins, Carisi, let’s move. You two ride together, I’ll take my car. Never a good idea to take one vehicle if we can take two.” 

Rollins rode in comfortable silence for a while. Carisi had the radio on, playing classical music real quiet. He wasn’t really listening, obviously. They were following Olivia, who said she knew how to get where they were going (somehow). She stared out the window at the darkness punctuated by bright green mile marker signs, forehead pressed against the cool glass. She let thoughts wander through her mind, past really caring what they were. She was getting numb to her own attacks, just let the condemning thoughts roll over her. Worthless. Unloveable. Easy. Dysfunctional. Bad example.  
“What’re you thinking, Manda?”  
Her nickname sounded normal from Carisi, even when normally everyone called her by her last name.  
“Ahh, you know, purposely self-deprecating, internally beating oneself up, contemplating life at 12am on the way to bust up a rapist drug gang, the good old average drill.”  
Finn would have laughed, Olivia would have jumped straight to “GET A THERAPIST!”, everyone else she knew would just shift uncomfortably and change the subject. Not her good old over-caring-about-everyone-and-everything partner.  
“Amanda, why do you always have to be running yourself down? What’s your little asshole internal bully saying now?”  
“It’s just stupid stuff. Forget it, it’s not important.”  
“If you’re torn up about it every other day it’s probably not stupid, and it’s definitely important.”  
“You know, I quit therapy for a reason. I hate talking.”  
“Well I hate being in a car with someone who is actively hating themselves even if they hate talking so all the hating cancels out so talk.”  
Rollins laughed, a weak, exasperated laugh.  
“Fine, shrink. My mom spent her whole life chasing dirtbags, and I hated her for it. I swore to myself at age six that I’d look for the nice ones. I’d go after guys who actually gave a crap about me, or better yet have them find me. I was the whole waiting-for-the-prince-to-sweep-me-off-my-feet type girl. I promised I’d show my kids a healthy relationship. I wouldn’t repeat the single-mom-sleeping-around mistake I lived with for eighteen years. Well, by the time I was sixteen I decided I didn’t want kids, got drunk, and gave up on my little six-year-old ideals. I’m shocked that I made it through so many years before Jessie and Billie showed up. Either way, I’m showing them what I swore I wouldn’t. When prince charming didn’t show up on time I just went for douchebags. My girls…” she hated that her voice was getting shaky “they’re gonna grow up thinking they don’t deserve love, scared of being happy-” her voice cracked right in half at that point. Carisi took one hand off the wheel and took hers. His hand felt warm, calloused, grounding...good. She let it stay there for a second, before remembering that this was dangerous. She shook off his hand and forced her stupid voice to cooperate.  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to give a freakin speech.” He ignored that statement.  
“Amanda-” his voice was different than usual. Thick New York accent somehow (impossibly for a NY accent) soothing rather than loud and angular. “Don’t you think for a minute that you don’t deserve something just because you haven’t found it yet. If you could only see yourself the way I-” she could actually FEEL him turning red without even looking “the way we all see you, you’d understand. There’s someone out there who cares about you in every way possible. Maybe you’ve even met him, you just can’t see it.”  
This was not the way Rollins wanted the conversation to go. She was walking on thin ice. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if that cold, protective layer broke and she had to decide whether to sink or swim. No. She wasn’t the right girl for “nice”.  
“Amanda, I’ve been meaning to say...for a while...probably around five years...that I-”  
“Don’t say it.”  
“But I-”  
“Don’t say it.”  
“But you don’t even know-”  
“Yes, I do. Don’t you dare say it. I don’t want...I’m not good en-...you’re just so...just don’t say it, ok?”  
His voice was almost a whisper now “can I ever say it?”  
“Don’t ask me that.” 

Her eyes burned. She wanted to hear it more than just about anything she could think of. Wanted it so bad it made her hurt all through. She wanted to let him have whatever he wanted-  
No. She wasn’t worth it. He just didn’t know it yet. He would figure it out and leave her and it would hurt exponentially worse than the brief shame after a one night stand or the pain of leaving Al, who she could see clearly now she never even loved in the first place. A tear silently dropped down her face. She hated crying, the admission of weakness, but she couldn’t help it. He looked over at her, years of aching pain creasing his face.  
“Amanda, I didn’t mean to make you cr-”  
“Forget it.” she snapped. Why did he have to make it so hard? All she wanted was...what even? The relatively smooth asphalt turned to gravel, drowning out her thoughts. After a minute or maybe an hour her phone buzzed; Olivia calling.  
“Rollins, you there?”  
Service was limited here; the gravel road was obviously leading to the middle of nowhere.  
“Yeah, we’re here. Are we getting close?”  
“Almost there. Be on your guard, these people don’t mess around. Their moral compass is apparently unhinged and pointed permanently south. Obviously you guys know that, just...gotta say it.”  
They pulled up in front of a medium-sized warehouse, peeling beige paint, faint light coming through ridiculously dirty windows. Rollins pulled the gun off her hip, liking the cold, powerful weight in her hand. Holding a gun gave her a feeling of security; she didn’t want to kill anyone, but she liked the thought that she could. When she joined the force she spent a lot of time trying to decide whether or not that was wrong, but after a while she gave up. The three sidled up to a grimy side window, peering through it, ready to duck at any time. Three men, one black, one white and one Hispanic, all of whom could only be described as burly. They had a stack of cash on a half broken table; they were obviously shooting another pile of cash in a more addictive form up their arms. A communal bottle of whiskey was on the table, ash trays faintly smoking. The blue inked J tattoo was faintly visible on three of them.  
“We got our guys. All we gotta do is catch em. Carisi, call Finn and tell him to quit canvassing and get backup out here now.”  
Carisi pulled the phone out of his pocket and dialed.  
“No service. Try catching em or drive till we get some service and call Finn? Your call.”  
“It’d be nice if this kind of thing was easy once in a thousand years.” Olivia sighed. “I think we can handle them. They’re so drugged up we should be able to take care of them. What do you think?”  
“We’ll follow you Liv.” Rollins felt adrenaline making her fingertips tingle, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach; she silently said goodbye to Jessie and Billie, as she did every time she was faced with even the least dangerous case. Hell, she thought of their little faces when she crossed a busy street.  
“Let’s go.”  
Rollins looked at Carisi. This wasn’t like Olivia. She didn’t walk into a gang of rapists without a plan. His face registered the same confusion, tinged with concern. No matter what they might have said (or not said), they were partners, and that trumped everything else. They got each other; just a fact. Well, nonsensical or not, they would walk off the edge of the Earth for Olivia, so they followed. “I don’t see weapons, if they have them they won’t be able to access them quickly. Get them at gunpoint, get them all in cuffs before their drugged up brains can get too far. Got it?”  
“Got it.” they replied in perfect unison.  
Staying under the line of sight from the window, they slid around the corner of the building. They stopped for a literal second in front of the rusty-hinged door, took a quick look around their little triangle, a deep breath, and ripped open the door. Not locked, surprisingly.  
“NYPD, ON THE GROUND NOW!”  
She felt an arm around her neck, yanking her against someone from behind. Whoever it was pulled her arms roughly behind her; for a split second she thought that her shoulders were actually ripped out of the sockets.

The heavy circle of cold metal pressed to her temple sent shivers down her spine.


	2. Chapter 2

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!” The voice came from behind her, blasting in her ear and drowning her in the scent of whiskey and cigarettes. Carisi and Olivia spun around, instinct putting them back to back, Olivia training her piece on the two at the table, Carisi pointing his gun about a quarter inch above Rollins’ head.  
“I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPONS! OR YOUR GIRL HERE’S GOIN’ DOWN!”  
“Try it and you’ll be locked up for the rest of your miserable life!” Carisi was not the best at keeping calm and diplomatic, that was Olivia’s job.  
“Maybe, but not before this pretty little girl’s got her brains on the floor! DROP THE WEAPONS!”  
In unison two guns clattered to the floor, and the detective’s hands went up. This was not how this was supposed to go.  
“Good. Now get the hell out.”  
Olivia put on her SoftCalmQuietSoothing voice, the one she used for Noah and felons.  
“We’ll leave you alone, but in order to do that we’ll need you to give our partner back.”  
“DO YOU THINK YOU’RE IN A BARGAINING SITUATION? YOU WANT HER DEAD OR NOT?”  
“No one needs to die this way.” Olivia looked eerily calm, but Carisi had been with her long enough to know that she was basically adrenaline walking.  
“Don’t try me! If all y’all don’t get out right now-  
The man holding her twisted her arm around from the wrist, farther than it should go, stretching the ligaments. She cried out, a short sharp sound, involuntary and unexpected. She, tough as she liked to consider herself, couldn’t help it.  
“JUST LET GO OF HER AND WE’LL LEAVE!” Carisi looked like he would tear the guy limb from limb to get him off Amanda, if doing so didn’t mean she would die before he could.  
“Ahh, ya like that pretty boy?” he wrenched her arm around a little further “you care a little too much don’tcha? Got a little something extra-curricular going on with this one?”  
“JUST LET HER-”  
“CARISI!” Olivia’s SoftCalmQuietSoothing voice broke. “Just please let our partner go, we won’t call anyone, no more cops. We’ll tell them we couldn’t find you. Just let her go. Alright?”  
“NO, NOT ALRIGHT! I told you, you get the hell out or she dies!”  
“Ok. ok, we’ll leave.”  
“OLIVIA-”  
“Stop, Carisi. We’ll leave.”  
“Good. Leave your phones. Drop em, now.”  
“Sir, we can’t-”  
“DROP THEM!”  
Two sharp cracks on the floor as the phones hit the floor. Amanda refused to panic. She wouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Won’t panic won’t panic won’t panic. Was Liv actually saying they would leave? Sonny was just going to go along with it? Did they have any idea what these people might do to her? Of course they did. She would die if they didn’t go. Won’t panic won’t panic no no no no.  
Benson and Carisi walked out. They left her. Alone.  
No. Not alone. Not alone enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, I know this chapter is super short! The next one is really short too, but I'm uploading them at the same time, so maybe it counts as one long chapter...? Anyway, hope you like it! Please let me know in the comments what you think, and if there's anything you'd especially like to see! Once again I'm honestly not sure if I'm going to finish it, so if you want me to let me know...


	3. Chapter 3

12:17am

“GOD, DRIVE FASTER LIV!”

There was no one to hear him. They brought two cars, so two cars had to go back. He wished he could be sitting next to Liv in the car, someone to talk to, to hurt with. He followed her down the infuriating long gravel road. Her fifty miles an hour, with the condition of this road, was honestly pushing it, but he felt like they were barely moving. He ground his fingernails into the hard taut leather covering the steering wheel. Amanda hadn’t let him say it. What if he never got the chance, if she…  
No. He knew he wasn’t supposed to think like that. But it was really, really hard.  
Finally, after approximately ten thousand years (twenty minutes), the grating crunching uneven gravel leveled out to asphalt. Clearly Olivia was desperate as he was; her tired old car accelerated till she was going much faster than was advisable on the still twisting road.  
Once the road straightened out into something reminiscent of a highway with a few sparse exits, Olivia flipped on her blinker and peeled off to the left. A half dead Sonoco sign with the neon “c” and “n” dead glimmered half-heartedly. Olivia practically kicked down the door in her hurry.

“NYPD, I need a phone immediately!”

"No phone use for customers"

"I don't care, this is police business, do you want us to arrest you for accessory to rape, murder and kidnapping?"

“Dear god no, use the phone, whatever the hell you want just leave me alone!"

The cashier handed over what appeared to be his personal cell phone. Olivia had Finn on the phone in three seconds flat. Clearly he’d been waiting for their call. 

“Fin, they’ve got Rollins, we had to leave to save her-”

Carisi could hear Fin’s incredulous voice seeping out of the phone. 

“Let me get this straight Liv, you left her with drug dealing murderous rapists to SAVE HER?” 

Although Carisi probably heard the word ‘rapist’ at least a dozen times a day, it hit hard this time. Way too hard, stinging and surrounding his brain, like inhaling cayenne pepper. 

“Fin it’s complicated, bottom line just get backup out here now!”

“You got it cap’n. Just do me a favor and don’t let Carisi get himself killed tryna single-handedly rip their throats out, got it?”

Even in the grip of adrenaline and terror, Olivia couldn’t help an involuntary gasp of a laugh. Gallows humor that hit a little too close to home.  
Carisi halfway whispered halfway mouthed “Does he know where we are?”  
Olivia nodded, quick, jerky, like someone pulled her head up by the hair and let it fall back down, simulating a nod.  
How the hell was he the only one who had no fucking clue where they were? For some reason the thought made Carisi feel utterly exhausted. Behind before he even started.  
Olivia hung up and slapped two ten dollar bills on the counter along with the cheap burner phone.

“Thanks” she added as an afterthought, halfway out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? Not totally sure where this is going, and once again I'm sure I'm 100% butchering realistic process, so corrections are welcome:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I am feeling so small  
> It was over my head  
> I know nothing at all  
> And I will stumble and fall  
> I'm still learning to love  
> Just starting to crawl  
> Say something, I'm giving up on you  
> I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you  
> Anywhere, I would've followed you  
> Say something, I'm giving up on you
> 
> ~A Great Big World

2:01am

When the file of police vehicles pulled up to the warehouse, the lights inside were off but the car was still in the lot. Flashlights bright enough to drown out the stars if pointed at the sky led their way to the door, once again unlocked. Guns pointed into the paley illuminated darkness, flashlights showed the spilled contents of the whiskey bottles slowly seeping over the floor, half-used cigarettes still smoking slightly in the ashtray. Worse was the way one of the bottles was smashed. Smashed against the corner of the room where the man had held Amanda. The CSI team had told Carisi, rather forcefully, to “stay the hell out of the building,” claiming some excuse about evidence preservation and this and that and other things he couldn’t bring himself to care much about. After Olivia and Fin loudly asserted that they should “ShutTheHellUpThat’sHisPartnerYou’reTalkingAbout” they grudgingly let him examine the scene if he understood that he must “stay out of the way or regret it.” 

He wished he hadn’t seen.

Hadn’t seen the blood on the door handle.

Hadn’t seen the bullet hole in the wall, same corner. 

Hadn’t seen the broken window.

Hadn’t seen the blood tracked over the floor and down the stairs. 

He really, really wished he hadn’t seen. 

But he did. 

The CSI team took samples and swabbed and collected and dug up a million disturbing things that stung like slap across the face. Fin and Olivia were not having delays. All they wanted was to find Rollins, and that wasn’t going to go speedily in a DNA analyzation lab. While the CSI team scoured the building for clues (Carisi privately had his doubts about the effectiveness of this) Fin, Olivia and Carisi took a walk around the treeline, looking for anything suspicious and/or helpful. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

4:14am

By 4:15 the CSI team basically shoved Olivia in a car and told Carisi and Fin that they’d better go home and get some sleep. Friendly as it sounded, it was obvious they were sick of Olivia’s thousand questions and suggestions and Carisi’s extremely abrasive demeanor (that kicked in during the common occurrence of his crush of five years being brutally kidnapped by rapists). Olivia drove herself and Carisi back in her car, while Finn drove Carisi’s.  
“I’m not keen on lettin’ that kid be alone right now...give him a ride wontcha?” Fin had whispered to Olivia while Carisi paced the perimeter of the warehouse for the nineteenth time. Olivia expected some intense speech from Carisi about how he was fine on his own and there was no need to babysit him and he wanted to be alone anyway. That’s just how he operated. She was surprised when he went along without a fight, rather resignedly (oddly, it seemed, with immense relief). 

They drove in strained silence for at least thirty minutes. The idea of SLEEPING was comical. The real question in Carisi’s mind was whether he would spend the time between 5am and 8am--when his official shift started--trying to get extra work done, coming up with theories and wild plans to find and murder and bury and dig up and murder again the Blue J gang members, or just spend three hours drinking. He had tentatively settled on a combination of the latter two options, when Olivia finally bored a hole through his thoughts and asked

“What are you thinking about?”

“I thought you could figure that out pretty easily Liv.”

“Well some of it is obvious, but what are you really THINKING?” 

“Not much specifically.”

“Carisi, it’s my job to figure out when people are lying and dig out the truth. Should I go full interrogation mode on you or would you rather just give it up?”

“Well to be honest I was trying to decide whether dissolving them in acid, slowly cutting off all their fingers, or setting Frannie on them would be more satisfying. I decided on a combination of the three, plus or minus castration.”

No explanation of who “they” were was necessary.

Olivia laughed, but there was an edge of concern under the sound. 

“Carisi, you’d better not make my life hard when i have to testify about what you said before you murdered them! I’d love to say that it wasn’t premeditated, but I’m afraid you’ve closed and bolted that door.”

“I’m not planning to become a felon, but you know what I mean.” 

“I do.”

Her voice was soft and gentle. She didn’t want to push him, but she felt that if he would just say what was really on his mind it would do more for him than he knew. 

“We’re gonna find her, Carisi. We’ll get her back.”

There was a moment of palpable silence, and then he burst. 

“Liv, what if they hurt her? We both know what they’re capable of! What about that poor girl back at the station, huh? What if they do that to Amanda? There’s nothing we can do! Nothing I can DO! We tell families and spouses and parents and children not to ‘think like that,’ but it’s bullshit Liv, I can’t not ‘think like that!’ Just because we don’t say it doesn’t mean it won’t happen! What if they kill her, Olivia? What if they kill her and I never got to tell her-”

He broke off. Choked up or just unable to get the words out she wasn’t sure. Olivia was almost whispering by now

“Tell her what, Carisi?”

Compared to Olivia he was almost yelling

“That I LOVE HER! That’s what I’m thinking about. That the woman I love has been kidnapped by murderers and rapists, and that she never let me tell her that I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’m thinking about what it will be like to know that Jesse and Billie are with the mother who ruined Amanda’s childhood, or maybe in foster care; how many cases of foster child abuse have we investigated in the last year alone? I’m thinking that I’ve been the closest thing to a father that they’ve had and yet I have no legal claim to them, and I have no say in what happens to them. I’m thinking that Amanda may be dead in the woods right now and we wouldn’t know. That if by some miracle we find her in one piece we will probably have to convince her--a woman who already feels guilty and unworthy--that it wasn’t her fault that she was raped. THAT is what I’m thinking about Olivia!”

He put his head in his hands, and she could see his fingers trembling, his whole body shaking with a fear and grief she knew. That’s how she felt when Noah went missing. When she fell apart, Rafael had literally and figuratively held her together. She mentally kicked herself when she blushed just THINKING his name, but yanked herself back to what was important at the moment. Rafa had been there when she needed it, and she resolved to do the same for Carisi. She’d had her suspicions, watching the two of them together over the years. Carisi was good at a lot of things, but subtlety was not one of them. It almost made her feel physically ill to see him fall apart like this. 

“Oh Dominick, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. It’s my fault. Why the hell did I send us into an encounter like that alone?!? I just thought we could do it, I’m so sorry Sonny, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If you want to be mad at me you can, you have the right. I’m already pretty mad at me though, not sure if you could top the insults I’ve got going on.” 

Silence was reinstated for a few minutes.

“She loves you. You do know that, right?”

“What I know is that she’ll never be with me. Even if we get her back. She has some insane inferiority complex going on, and there’s nothing I can do to convince her that she deserves someone who actually cares about her. I appreciate the sentiment Liv, but she doesn’t.”

“Carisi, I’ve known Amanda longer than you have. I know all about her past, about what you call her inferiority complex. I’ve also watched you two constantly for the past few years, ever since I saw that look in your eyes. The face i had when I-” 

When I looked at Elliot, she almost said, but reeled it in.

“Sonny, she loves you. Trust me. And when we get her back-”

“If. if we get her back.”

“If we get her back, she’ll realize it. Ok?”

At least a full minute past in silence.

“Ok…” he finally whispered, looking straight ahead at the road.

“Ok.” 

The finality in her voice almost made him believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! If you're still following this story I sooo appreciate it! I hope you like where I'm going with it, let me know if you have any corrections or suggestions.  
> Comments from y'all brighten my day more than you know:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has more cursing than the others, though it is not excessive. However, if you are easily bothered by language, feel free to move on. I just thought it was realistic.   
> There are some descriptions of violence, but not extremely graphic, and no rape descriptions. It isn't really any worse than what you would see in an SVU episode. Just wanted to warn you in case you are really easily triggered! I want to make sure reading my work is fun, not stressful (only stressful in the fun way, haha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is centered around Amanda, and it takes place in the timeline directly after Olivia and Carisi leave. Hope you enjoy! It will get less dark, I promise lol;)

11:56

Amanda tried to keep her breathing under control, desperately trying not to panic. Thing is, the word DESPERATELY when applied to trying not to panic usually means you’re failing. Her shoulder ached from being twisted around too far. Even as the panic clogged the back of her throat, her police-conditioned brain started formulating a plan. Unfortunately, any plan by a 5’7” woman with her arms pinned behind her and no weapons can only go so far against three armed six foot or above rapists. 

“What the hell are we gonna do now?” the one at the table said. It sounded halfway between a yell and a growl.

“I TOLD YOU this was a shitty place to camp! We should’ve just found a spot in the woods or some tiny motel or something, not a known DRUG DISPENSARY!”  
“Shut your mouth or i’ll shut it for you dumbass!” The words blasted in her ear; her body flinched without her permission. 

“Aww, don’t be nervous sweetheart! We’ll take good care of you while pretty boy is away. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful.”

As he spoke, he ran one hand through her hair, soft with an edge of aggression.

She jerked her head to the side, instinctively.

“Don’t struggle darlin’. You know it won’t do a damn thing.”

She went limp. For the moment, she knew, whatever they wanted within reason, she had better do. Self-defense in reverse, sort of. 

“Shut up! Don’t waste time on her, we need to go!” the one at the table growled.

“Where the hell do you suggest?”

All of their words were beginning to slur, voices cracks making them sound hoarse and surreal. 

“Anywhere but here, into the f*cking woods, whatever! They’ll be back, you know the damned police never hold up their end of a bargain! If we take the car they’ll track the plate, and it’s a hell of a way to anywhere populated. We’ll be ridiculously conspicuous! We’ll run.”

As if all three men were joined by one consciousness, they staggered up and toward the door, making measly attempts at putting out cigarettes. The ends just kept on burning. 

When she saw the smoldering ends of the cigarettes, she was sure of what she had to do. The men had used them and put them out, but they kept on burning. Like me, she thought. 

As the man who held her moved, she twisted round just enough to get her teeth in his arm. The strain of her wrist and shoulder from the motion was nearly intolerable, but desperation is a powerful anesthetic. He cried out, letting go of her by instinct; she spun to face him, jabbing her elbow into his throat. 

Released, she took one step toward the door. 

That’s when the bottle smashed into the side of her head. 

The blackness spread from the corner of her eyes to the center, fizzing over her vision in black and red sparks. The pain took a moment to register, but when it did, it was literally blinding. She tried to stay upright, every muscle and nerve straining to move closer to the door, to some delusional idea of escape, but it was physically impossible. The blood was dripping into her eyes and down her face, somehow hot and cold simultaneously. She could not take another step. 

When she hit the floor, the world turned black. 

12:34

Her head hurt. So, so bad. That was all she could think about for at least five minutes. It just HURT. Consciously, she knew she must be walking, running, but her legs were numb. All she knew was that her head hurt, so fucking bad. 

Finally wispy sensations and memories began to string themselves together behind her burning eyelids. Her head hurt because of the bottle. A bottle had hit her head and that is why it hurt. Her head hurt because it had been hit with a bottle. These words in different combinations spun around her brain. She felt an odd sense of triumph at having regained this piece of her situation.

Next, what happened next? She couldn’t think. A bottle hit me in the head. That was all. 

Finally, the crunching of leaves under her feat registered. 

She was walking in the forest.

She put that fact on the mental shelf beside the bottle. Why was she walking in the forest? Why, why, why was that happening? She didn’t know. All she could feel was the pounding in her skull, the hands holding her arms and shoving her forward, the hoarse whisper in her ear telling her to keep up or-  
She chose to block out the threat. All she needed to focus on was moving forward. Just one more step. Just one more step. One more. Always, one more. 

Finally, after ten thousand years, they stopped. She fell forward, just catching herself. The leaves crunched under the heels of her hands. 

“GET UP!”

The sound split her aching head in half.

“Shut up, who says there’s no one to hear!?! Whisper dumbass!”

She tried to stand but after fifteen seconds of trial and error gave in to the fact that that was simply impossible. 

Someone pulled her up, forced her up on her feet. They held her upright. 

“What are we going to do with her?!?”

The sound of their voices came to her as if from far away and through a dense fog.

“Bring her along and use her for bargaining power, what did you think the plan was idiot?”

The third voice joined in the debate.

“The first person who sees us dragging this wreck along will have the damned police on us in two seconds! She isn’t exactly going to be easy to smuggle! What the hell were you thinking breaking her face like that, she’s obvious as hell and impossible to transport now!”

“What, you wanted me to let her bolt?”

“I had the situation under control! You didn’t have to damage the f*cking cargo, idio-”

“SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!” the first voice cut in again.

“When they can’t see her, they won’t know whether she’s with us or not. We can go hide out in some crappy shady motel until we’ve got a better plan or they’ve got us cornered again. Bribe the front desk, whatever. Either way, she’s bargaining power whether or not we have her! All we have to do is make them meet our demands before we ‘surrender her.’ They won’t know we don’t have her, and you know they’ll let us have whatever we want to get her back, probably including immunity for some of the shit we’re facing.”

“Fine ok, whatever, but what do we DO with her?”

“I don’t know, leave her here I guess! No point in dragging her any farther; anyway, they’ll have quite a time of it digging her up in the middle of nowhere.”

The words washed over her. Their plan started to organize itself in her slowing mind. Through the rushing in her ears and the achy feeling e v e r y w h e r e, the details were fuzzy. The only part that really got through was 

Leave her here. 

She got that, loud and clear. 

She felt her body being dragged over the ground, then dropped. 

“Would it be better if she were unconscious?”

“What do YOU think dumbass, she could scream or run or whatever!”

Something hard connected with the side of her head. There wasn’t even pain; just sleepiness. A feeling like there was no possible way to open her eyes, like she was drifting away and didn’t want to come back. The floating was so much better than the ache, that the only emotion that could really register was relief. 

She felt something light and scratchy falling on her face, and smelled wet leaves vividly for a brief moment. 

Then everything was dark.

Blessedly silent, beautifully dark.

Finally, she was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
> 
> Sorry if you really hate her getting hurt...she's not dead lol, don't worry!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another sort of short chapter, I wrote this at 12:30am cause I just really wanted to lol, but I am about to fall asleep sitting up and I figured y'all might rather have a short-ish chapter than no chapter. Hope you like it!

9:25 am

“So you’re saying there’s absolutely no way to track these bastards?” Carisi was brutally exhausted. He wanted to sleep, to sleep and only wake up when she was back. 

“Not exactly, but it’s not going to be easy. For being as sloppy as they are, they tied our hands by leaving without the car. THAT would have been easy to track.”

“Well they had to leave somehow. We could try canvasing the populated area nearest the warehouse? I know it’s a long shot, but we can’t just let them leave!”

Olivia sighed resignedly, a wisp of desperation that no one would pick up if they didn’t work with her every day.

“I guess that couldn’t hurt. You go Carisi, take Fin. I don’t trust you alone in a car right now, you haven’t slept in forty-eight hours.”

“I had a few hours off!”

“Don’t play with me Carisi, you just drank coffee and bourbon and planned a million ways to kill them.”

He shrugged sheepishly.

“Guess you know me.”

“You hadn’t noticed?”

“Hey you only stopped calling me the new guy six months ago!”

“It’s easier to get someone’s best work out of them if they think they still have to earn respect, they think they’re at the bottom of the ladder.”

“Well thanks a lot Liv!”

“Get going!” 

“Of course lieutenant.” 

Privately Olivia sort of hated when her squad members called her lieutenant...it felt forced and fake. She knew she had their respect; Liv was fine with her. 

“Fin, go with Carisi, he’s about to drop dead from caffeine and anxiety. Canvas the nearest populated area from the warehouse, abandoned buildings, shitty motels, you know the drill. We’ll get a team out to comb through the woods. It’ll be quite a job, don’t expect to hear anything soon. I’ll take another car and come with you, see what we can do.”

“Got it cap’n. Let’s go Carisi, I am now personally in charge of keeping you away from caffeine.” 

The drive did NOT go fast enough for any of them. 

“Why the hell do speed limits exist?” Carisi ran his hand through his hair distractedly. He realized he had forgotten to restore the copious amounts of gel he usually brushed through his hair before work; it was coming out of it’s perpetually rigidly slicked state. 

“Purely to make you miserable.” Fin could pull out sarcasm at the most inappropriate moments. Only Rafael could do better. 

“Carisi, you have BANGS. I thought you were just born with gelled hair!”

“I do not have bangs.”

“Yeah you do!”

“No I don’t!”

“You do, do you ever take a shower and notice what you look like without grease coating your head?”

“Fine.”

There was a moment of silence. Not strained, not comfortable. Just silence.

“We’ll find her, Carisi. You know that.”

“No I don’t. And neither do you.”

“I KNOW you have bangs, and you say you don’t. I KNOW we’ll find her. Obviously you don’t have to agree for something to be true.” 

Carisi couldn’t help half a laugh. 

“If you say so. Just keep me from actually killing them when we find those assholes.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll just help you kill ‘em.” 

11:16 am

“There really is an abundance of shady and abandoned establishments around here.” Olivia’s voice crackled from the receiver. Figures, the service out here was terrible. 

“More’n likely we’re not even in the right town. This is straw graspin’ if I ever saw any.” 

“Fin, this is all we can do right now. Teams are in the woods, we’ve got a squad in all semi-major towns around here. This is all we got.”

“I know, it just feels like walking sideways. We’re getting nowhere.”

“It’s not a dead end until we look through every window in this goddamn town, got it?”

“Yeah yeah I know. What else we got? Any more 12-dollar-a-night motels with bars over the windows?”

“Yes actually, for a town of 9000 residents in the nasty part of New York there is a SURPLUS of crappy motels. Next stop is ‘Hy Kwality Motel’, a few blocks from here.”

“Wow they really hit on a classy name.” Carisi could muster up some sarcasm now and again, though it was generally agreed that no one could compete with Rafael, especially in suspenders. 

Ten minutes of walking brought a glaring fluorescent green and gold sign into view, proclaiming the classy name in all its glory. 

“Carisi, stay put outside. If by some miracle they’re here and the assholes try to run we need a gun on them. Fin and I will explore the interior of this magnificent establishment.” When Olivia told you to stay put, you stayed. Period. So Carisi parked himself near the Hy Kwality sign and waited, irrational hope mixing with premature despair. He just wanted her back, so bad. He wanted to gather her in his arms and just hold her, reminding both of them that she was safe. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he wanted to press his mouth to hers and feel the sparks go off in his fingertips.

He reminded himself with a mental slap to get a grip and make that part of his brain shut up. None of that even mattered right now, and it would never matter if they didn’t find her, which was feeling more and more inevitable. 

11:42, Hy Kwality Motel front desk

“Sir, have three men tried to rent a room here in the last forty-eight hours? The men would all be ranging from 5’8’ to 6’3” or so, one black, one white, and one hispanic, each with a blue “J” letter tattoo on his neck.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man at the front desk had a nondescript German-type accent, not quite identifiable, but thick. His eyes looked hunted. 

“Are you sure? It is extremely important that you tell us if people matching this description have been here!”

“Even if I knew why would I tell you?”

Fin flashed his badge; “We’re NYPD detectives. These men are extremely dangerous and are holding a woman hostage. If you’ve seen them and refuse to cooperate we can arrest you as an accomplice to rape, kidnapping, and violence against a police officer! Now think real hard, have you seen these people?”

The man threw his hands up. He clearly knew the drill a little too well.

“If I tell you they kill me!”

“We’ll keep them away from you, but if they’re here we need their room number immediately!”

“I can’t, they will kill-”

“WHERE ARE THEY?” Fin was not one to waste time. The man behind the counter flinched, almost cowering.

“Room 231, but please god don’t let them near me!”

“Give us a key or we’ll have to break the door!”

The man scanned and handed over a thin purple plastic card with “enjoy your stay!” printed on it in clashing green font. Olivia had Carisi on the phone in three seconds flat.

“They’re here, second floor. Call for backup then get up here now!”

Given the unreasonably short amount of time it took him to get into the motel and up to the second floor, it seemed unlikely that he’d called anyone, though he swore he did. Fin and Carisi arranged themselves on either side of the door to room 231, while Olivia simply put up a fist, and   
Knocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda feel like I spelled stuff wrong in here, if I did pleeeaaase call me out! Lmk what you think so far;) Btw I got "Hy Kwality" from an actual sign that was spray painted in HUGE font on the side of a building near where I used to live in Frankfort. No one asked, but now you know lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a decent amount of cursing again. I hope you don't mind! I feel it gets the point across now and again lol;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But when I wake up, I see  
> You with me  
> And you say, "As long as I'm here  
> No one can hurt you  
> Don't wanna lie here  
> But you can learn to  
> If I could change  
> The way that you see yourself  
> You wouldn't wonder why you hear  
> They don't deserve you"
> 
> ~Billie Eilish

11:48 am

Olivia held her badge two inches away from the peephole.

“This is NYPD, we know you’re holding an officer hostage in there. We need you to surrender her immediately.”

“Last time you came after Blu J it didn’t go so well for you or your girl here did it?” The voice was muffled through the door, but clear enough. 

“This time we’ve got backup. In just a few minutes this place will be swarming with officers; I suggest you cooperate for your own good.” Olivia sounded far more calm than she felt.

“If you so much as touch this door we’ll have to make some good use of the pliers we picked up on the way over here. I think your pretty little girl has had more than enough as it is. Is this what you want for her?” 

“Don’t you dare!”

“CARISI, let me handle this!” Olivia knew Carisi’s gifts for under pressure negotiations were severely handicapped when Rollins entered the picture. 

“Ok sir, we’ll stay out of your way. All we need is for you to let her go.”

“To do that we’ll need some things in return!” Fin, Olivia, and Carisi shot wary looks between them.

“What do you require?” Olivia’s voice was laced with suspicion.

“First off we need to be granted immunity for whatever that little bitch from the alley told you. Whatever she said, we’re not charged. Got it?”

“I’m afraid our ADA won’t allow us to-”

“Do you want to rely on our morality right now?!? We will return your darling girl’s raped and mutilated body to you free of charge! Your choice, charge us with whatever you want and get blondie back dead or grant us immunity and get her back RELATIVELY unharmed. What’ll it be?”

“Sir, we want to work with you here, but i’m afraid total immunity is outside of what I have the authority to-”

A woman’s voice crackled through the door.

“No please, please don’t, god don’t-” 

“SHUT UP B*TCH!” THe man’s voice was loud and harsh. Carisi felt something inside him drop three or four floors down and flip over. 

“STOP, PLEASE! Whatever you want! You want immunity, you got it, just please stop!” Carisi’s New York accent somehow got thicker when he was upset.

“CARISI, YOU DON’T HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO-”

“I DON’T CARE OLIVIA!”

“It’s your job to care!”

“Yeah, it’s my job to care about my partner!” Carisi’s voice dropped to a whisper “We can let Barba challenge the immunity. He can work his way around anything, you know that.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it!” Olivia’s whisper was agonized but resolute.

“We cannot grant you immunity, but if you harm this officer and are held accountable for everything you’ve done you will do fifty to eighty years time with no chance of parole! Do you understand what you’re doing?’

The woman’s muffled scream came faintly through the door, as if someone was covering her mouth. 

“LIV, PLEASE!” 

“Carisi, I can’t-”

“Dominick please help me!”

The woman’s voice sounded twisted with pain and as if spoken through a sob. Somehow it didn’t even sound like Amanda. Who else could it be though, it must be her. Exhaustion was dulling his perception, he decided. 

“Amanda! Amanda, hang in there, we’re gonna get you out! Please, just stop! We can get you whatever you-”

“Carisi YOU KNOW WE CAN’T!”

“Sonny please-“ the plea was broken off with the sound of a hard slap.

“Amanda!” the word was strangled in his throat. This was nightmare material. The floor tilted, lights were too bright. 

“Guess they care about us being in jail more than they care about whether you live or die!” Another hard slap.

“You don’t know what’s coming to ya darlin’. Guess they want you to find out!” 

At this Olivia broke.

“FINE! We’ll grant you immunity for previous crimes. You will only be charged with kidnapping and violence toward a police officer. The only condition is that you all come with us peacefully, and without attempted escape or violence. I’m sure we can bring our ADA around to this arrangement for the sake of getting Rollins back safe. Now open the GODDAMN DOOR!”

“As you wish!”

There was the sound of the lock clicking open on the opposite side of the door, and then it swung open. 

Fin, Olivia and Carisi were inside with guns trained on the three gang members in less than three seconds. 

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!” Fin commanded. Every muscle in the room was wound tight to the maximum. 

“Where is our officer?” Olivia demanded, her gun no more than three feet from the hispanic man’s forehead. 

“Guess you’ll have to look and see!” 

“Where the hell is she?!?”

“I don’t know, like I said, if you want her you’ll have to find her!”

Carisi shoved his gun into Fin’s other hand and strode right up to the smirking rapist. He grabbed him by the collar, bringing his face close enough to feel the man’s breath. His voice was ragged and laced with raw and undiluted rage.

“WHERE IS SHE YOU SON OF A BITCH?!?”

“Hey, cool down. You said the only condition to immunity was going with you quietly”

All three men held out their hands in unison, smugly giving themselves up to being handcuffed.

“But what about her voice, huh? She called us by name, me by name!” Carisi was genuinely at a loss; how the hell did the sloppy crudely managed gang contrive to slip their nets again?!?

“Oh that? You can dig up anything about anyone, names included, if you know what corners of the internet to look in. Y'all of all people should know that! That voice was my girlfriend on speaker phone. She’s a whore with nothing to lose anyway, went right along with it. You really don’t know your woman’s voice, do you pretty boy?”

“WHERE IS SHE?” Fin’s voice cut in. After all, he’d been her partner long before Carisi. Only difference was he was more adept at keeping his rage under control. That, and he wasn’t in love. The latter goes a long way.

“Why do y’all care so much anyway? After all, she’s only one TREE IN A FOREST.” The caucasian man laughed. 

“Detectives like clues right? See what you can do with that one. Anyway, y’all said immunity if we cooperated, so cuff us and drag us out. No matter if you find your girl, or not.”

12:33 pm

“One tree in a forest...that’s pretty obviously the woods around the warehouse, right?” Olivia’s face was pale and drawn, anxiety and exhaustion etched across it. 

“I can’t think of anything else it could be. We’ve got a team out searching the surrounding forest area right?” Fin asked, keeping his voice calm and steady with an obvious effort. 

“We do, but it can’t hurt for us to go too. Call in more backup, if she’s somewhere in the forest she’s been there a while. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

The drive back was short and MISERABLE. Carisi stared out the window, glass cold on his forehead. He could see the faint reflection of his eye staring back at him. Amanda was probably dead of exposure or injuries somewhere in the forest. He would never see her again. Never work a case together, never share a joke, never hear her bash him about his excessive caffeine consumption, never tell her he loved her, never feel her mouth on his, never spend an evening with her and Jesse and Billie all together like a-

his throat felt constricted; it hurt to breathe

Like a family.

It was too much. He dragged in a breath, and as he exhaled forcefully expelled the thoughts from his brain. 

1:05 pm

They--Fin, Olivia, Carisi, and more officers called in for backup--reconvened at the warehouse. The plan was almost comically simple. Split up, and walk through the damn forest. Each took a walkie talkie, and they just...started walking. 

Carisi walked for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes. Finally he literally stumbled upon what looked like a crude and ill-defined path. Less than a path even, more like overgrowth crushed to the ground following a relatively straight line. He caught his breath; this is exactly what one would expect to find in the wake of a none-too-careful group of large people in a rush. He followed it, wanting to run but forcing himself to an infuriatingly slow pace, combing the area for the slightest clues. 

Finally, after what seemed like a century and then some, he noticed a very slight side trail leading erratically off the crushed path. Following it for a few seconds, he saw a shape lying on the ground, covered in damp fallen leaves. 

He was next to her in two seconds, kneeling down on the crunching leaves beside her. As gently as physically possible he brushed the leaves off of her face, her body, her hair. She was unconscious, face deadly pale, so white she looked painted. He could have cried looking at her, equal parts for relief and horror at finding her looking how she did. An angry purple bruise spread down one side of her face, from her hairline to her jaw. Fresh and dried blood laced a spider web across her face, stemming from a deep gash over her temple. Her arm was bent at the wrong angle and her body was terrifyingly chilled. He reached for her wrist, feeling desperately for a pulse. 

There was nothing.

He moved two fingers over her wrist and forearm, praying to a god that suddenly felt very real to save her, to let her live, not to take her away. Still, nothing. He pressed his fingers to her neck, over a main artery. After a few frozen seconds, he felt the faintest motion. 

He found the pulse. It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there. 

Carisi’s voice crackled out of the receivers of the whole team, explaining the situation in a few short sentences. Olivia, a pure combination of chilling foreboding and incredible relief, called an ambulance immediately. 

“Get her back here Carisi, there’s a tiny fire department near here, they’ll have an ambulance out in twenty minutes.”

As gently as possible he slipped an arm under her upper back and an arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground. She was surprisingly light, easy to carry. 

As he began to walk back she rested her head against his chest, tucking one hand in his vest. She was semi-conscious, literally drained from blood loss, cold, and exhaustion; her vision was blurry and everything felt fuzzy and surreal. She couldn’t feel her legs and her head ached with a vengeance. Still, she recognized his smell. Hair gel, cologne, and chocolate. The combination sounded terrible, but it was oddly soothing. 

“Sonny…?” her voice was weak and raspy, barely audible. 

“I got you ‘Manda. You're safe, It’s over. I’ve got you.”

She let herself relax, float away again. He had come for her. She could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I got some spelling seriously wrong, lmk if I did lol! What do you think so far?? You'll get more Rollisi soon:)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some actual Rollisi material for you, rather than me trying to (so badly it's almost funny) impersonate Dick Wolf.
> 
> "Took you like a shot  
> Thought that I could chase you with a cold evening  
> Let a couple years water down how I'm feeling about you  
> And every time we talk  
> Every single word builds up to this moment  
> And I gotta convince myself I don't want it  
> Even though I do  
> You could break my heart in two  
> But when it heals, it beats for you  
> I know it's forward, but it's true"  
> ~Selena Gomez, 13 Reasons Why

24 hours later

She flitted in and out of consciousness. The drugs in her bloodstream dulled the headache, but by no means eliminated it. She longed to stay in that floating dimension that overtook her as she was going back under. She didn’t even notice the IV in her arm until she saw it, barely even registered that she was in a hospital bed. Everything was fuzzy, her brain, her body, her memories. Remembering, feeling, was just too much. So she floated. When she surfaced, for real finally, she felt the warm pressure of someone’s hand tucked around hers. Soft and calloused at the same time, warm and solidly real. It was Carisi of course, who else would it be? Who else would have held her hand and told her she could do anything while she fell to pieces over having a baby? Who else would have tried and failed to teach her how to cook? What other man did she know who would have come to her apartment and helped her care for Jesse and Billie without expecting “favors”? Who else would smoothly acknowledge her strength while accepting her weakness? Who else would be passed out in a plastic hospital chair holding her hand while she was drugged and unconscious at 4am? No one. That was the answer she came to.

No one.

She spent a few minutes just looking at him; she blamed it on one’s inevitable sentimentality after being found almost dead in the woods. His head was resting on the crook of his arm, uncomfortably draped over the back of the thin, pale blue plastic hospital chair. His hair was almost completely de-gelled, for the first time EVER, and a piece was hanging over one eye. She could see the other eye twitching furiously under the lid and pale blonde eyelashes. She absent-mindedly wondered why girls with dark eyelashes still wore mascara but guys with almost invisible lashes didn’t...it was too complicated a problem so she gave up. She figured he would wake up soon, given the eye-twitching. Wasn’t that supposed to mean someone was dreaming or something? Like the last sleep stage or whatever? This was also too complicated. She blamed it on being drugged and sleepy. What kinds of things did other people dream about, she wondered? Obviously not what she did; she was pretty sure dreams of your babies being taken away by men in ski masks climbing through your window, being pinned down by your supervisor while hearing “I don’t take no for an answer” a million times in a row, losing your children to foster care, being forced to move to Atlanta, and--OCCASIONALLY--kissing the ADA were not average dream material. But how would she know, anyway? How could she know that the dreams of the ADA in question were unnervingly similar, disproportionately featuring her and her children. 

She (understandably) hadn’t thought about her conversation in the car with Carisi since it happened. She hadn’t exactly-AHEM-had much time. 

But she thought about it now. 

What would have happened if she let him say it? What would have happened if she had let him say it a year ago? What would have happened if she didn’t find him unbelievably annoying when he first made a brash, know-it-all, overeager appearance in her life? What would have happened if Rafael had stayed and Carisi never became an ADA? What would have happened if she’d let him kiss her that one time after the (unreasonably fun) bar fight? What would have happened if she pulled him into her room instead of mindlessly allowing the bartender? What would it be like if Billie was his? 

At the last few what ifs, something in her stomach pulled tight. It felt...not exactly...bad. Fuck it, to be honest, it made her fingers tingle and her face feel hot in a completely unreasonable and infuriating and inexplicably pleasant way. 

She blamed it on the drugs. She was a good liar, but not that good. 

She couldn’t remember ever seeing him this relaxed. There was no worry, no pain, none of the heavy contemplative lines that their jobs so often brought on. But when those invisible eyelashes fluttered open, the worry lines came back with a vengeance. 

“‘Manda…” he squeezed his hand tighter around hers. “How’s the headache?”

“How do you know I have a headache?” How was that what she had to say, she wondered. Could she have thought of something more stupid to say if she tried? She decided she could not have.

“Well for one you should see yourself, you look like half your head is a creepy Halloween mask-”

“Well thanks, Sonny, don’t hold back”

“And also you were...um...crying and begging for something to make the headache go away...and at first they wouldn’t give it to you because of some goddamn medical can’t-combine-a-concussion-with-a-sedative crap. I’ve only seen you like that when Jesse showed up. I almost got myself kicked out of the hospital trying to convince them to put a needle in your arm. They finally said they found a safe drug or something…it was about time”  
A haunted look washed over his face, his eyes unfocusing. As soon as she noticed it, it was gone. 

“I don’t remember any of that…”

“You were halfway passed out. They said temporary memory loss is common with this type of trauma.”

Trauma. What had actually happened to her? It was hard to remember.

“Amanda...what happened to you? Did they hurt you?”

“No Carisi, I busted a whiskey bottle over my own head, dislocated my own shoulder, pulled out a lot of my own hair and then crawled into a pile of leaves in the middle of the night in forty degree temperatures.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean Amanda.” She did. 

“I don’t think they hurt me like you mean. Everything is fuzzy...but I guess they were in too much of a hurry or didn’t like blondes or something.”

“Are you sure? Because if they did I swear to god I will-”

“Get yourself locked up too? I want...need you to stay with me.” it slipped out without thought. It just showed up in the air between them. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I guess I shouldn’t jinx it though, last time I said that some other guy proposed to you on the spot.”

“I think I’m done with proposals. It’s just too much pressure... one word deciding your whole future.”

“Done with proposals...for good?”

She genuinely thought about it for a minute.

“To every rule there’s an exception. Usually only one though.” 

He exercised every bit of willpower he possessed to keep himself from straight up grinning and thereby digging himself into a still deeper hole, but the corners of his mouth rebelled. She delicately refrained from noticing. He pivoted the subject with an effort.

“Well ‘Manda, I won’t ask you all the details of your...ordeal...if you don’t want to give them. Just remember, I’ll listen to anything you have to say anytime, whatsoever. If you want to unpack your entire childhood at two in the morning on a Sunday-”

“A massive overestimation of my vulnerability skills-”

“I’m here to be your personal shrink. And I swear I won’t try to solve anything or make any death threats or anything. I just want you to be...happy.”

She squeezed his hand; she could feel it trembling slightly, for no apparent reason.

“I know, Sonny...I know.” 

With his free hand, he gently trailed his fingers over her hair, so softly she could barely feel it, carefully avoiding anywhere that might hurt. Then so quickly it barely seemed real, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Soft, not hard, not involved, barely even any pressure. Light, and quick, and gone again. 

He jerked away, blue eyes storming with disbelief and embarrassment. It was abundantly clear that he had not thought it through. 

“Amanda, I’m sorry, I-” he raked his hand through his hair “I don’t know, I’m sorry-” His bewilderment was almost comical. It was impossible to be angry with a self-kicking puppy. She wasn’t angry anyway. She was...interested. She felt warm, and inexplicably safe. She knew it was cheesy even as she thought it, but she guessed cliches had to be based in some shred of common experience. 

“Do you want me to go? I’m sorry, I’ll send Liv in here or something, I’ll go, I’m sor-”

“Dominick! If you say sorry one more time I will make sure you are removed from the premises. If you reel it in and let me get a word in-” she waited for him to muster up the determination to look her in the eyes “-I’ll ask you to stay and just give me your damn hand again. That was nice. I’m not in the mood to spill my childhood, why that even came up is beyond me, but the drugs are making me sleepy again and I hate hospitals and I haven't fallen asleep with someone next to me in...a long time. Can you do that for me?”

For at least ten whole seconds words utterly failed him. Finally, he caught on and sat back down, pulling his chair up again (it had been shoved back four feet or so when he shot out of his chair and attempted to flee). She was already almost out again. The drugs were not weak. 

The last thing she noticed before floating away into blessed oblivion was the pleasant pressure of his hand tucked back around hers. 

No actually, that wasn’t QUITE the last thing. As the blackness took over, three nagging words drifted to the surface of her fading consciousness. 

Sink or swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Too cheesy? Not cheesy enough, lol? There's more coming, so if you need me to amp up or tone down the cheesy fluff levels, you better let me know so I can attempt to provide the most satisfying conclusion:)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set one month after the end of the last chapter, while Amanda is on mandatory leave. Sorry the chapter is short, more coming soon!

“You do know I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my children, right?”

She stood in her door frame, one elbow leaned against the post, hip out and legs crossed. 

“Well yeah I assume you could get by on eggo waffles and frozen pizza but wouldn’t you rather have your own personal Italian chef?”

“Italian chef, ey? Well that’s a new one.”

“Wow Rollins, so you can dish sarcasm but you can’t take it? Well I’m coming in, so I can just literally move you out of the way or you can move yourself.”

“You think you could move me out of the way with eighty pounds of groceries on each wrist?”

“Yeah, those stupid plastic handles are about to rip my fingers off, they’re already numb and purple! Stop pretending you had anything planned but reality TV and chocolate and let me cook for you.” he waited a second “or I could just go home and eat my grandmother’s famous lasagna and chocolate chip cookies all by myself in my little apartment with no babies in it…”

She gave up and laughed. “Ok Sonny come in, but I’m doing YOU a favor, not the other way.”

“Wow that’s cold.”

“Well I suppose I’d never live it down if your fingers fell off so…”

She moved out of the door frame and took the thin brown grocery bags out of one of his hands. The amount of groceries seemed excessive. 

“It’s a good thing you’re preparing us for the apocalypse, wouldn’t want to be low on spaghetti when the zombies come.”

Underneath the sarcasm she was a little embarrassed. She didn’t want to admit that it was nice to be taken care of. It wasn’t a familiar feeling. But it was a good one. 

“Amanda, I know you haven’t left your apartment in two weeks. You’ve left the house once in the last month.”

“Oh so you’re stalking me now?” she bristled, not because what he said wasn’t true, but because it was. She was afraid of everyone. She didn’t dare take her kids out. The nightmares were becoming unbearable. For the last week she’d stayed up till 3am just sitting in bed staring at the wall, too scared to go to sleep. She was supposed to be tough, to be able to take care of herself. She wasn’t supposed to need things. 

“Amanda…” his voice was softer now “you haven’t really slept since you got out of the hospital, have you?”

“So you’ve got cameras in my bedroom too?” 

“Nah, it’s literally part of my job description to be able to see through liars. ‘Manda, it’s ok to need help.”

“I’ve always taken care of myself, nothing’s changed.”

“A LOT has changed. I almost lost y-” he raked his hand through his hair; the guy must be terrible at poker, his innermost thoughts were constantly plastered all over his face “you almost died. just …” he grabbed one of her hands, impulsively, but kept a decent distance “just let me take care of you. Ok?”

“Ok.” her voice was small. If she was honest with herself, she knew that what she painted as exasperation was actually relief. She was just...so...tired. 

“Uncle Sonny!!!!!!”

Jesse had no business being as excited as she was; Carisi had come at least twice a week for a month, sometimes more. For Jesse and Billie his every arrival deserved proper acknowledgement (shrieking for extended periods of time). He was on his knees to get to their level with both of them wrapped up in a bear hug in two seconds. Amanda felt something in her chest get tight. Her eyes burned. She had the strange feeling of looking at Sonny and her girls through a glass wall. She wanted to crack it open, to punch it or smash it with a rock, but she knew it would never move that way. She couldn’t get through. Three words would do it, she knew, but that was too hard. Too risky. 

So the glass stayed. 

A different set of three words tugged at the back of her brain. She hadn’t been able to get rid of them, not even after a month of brushing them away.

Sink or swim. Sink or swim. Sink or-

“What’s up with you? You’re frozen solid over there! Watcha thinkin’?” 

She realized with a jolt that she had been just standing, staring at the three. Her three. 

“Sink or swim.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Sink or swim.” she didn’t know why she said it. Truth was, she kind of hoped he would figure it out for her. 

“Sink or swim, ey? And what exactly would you be sinking in?”

“I don’t know. I just want to get through the glass, ya know? I want to break the glass and be happy but the hammer doesn’t work and I want you to help me swim!”

“Uhh...no, I don’t know. You sound crazy.” she sighed. Being honest was too hard.

“I never learned to swim, so you’re on your own there, and if you go breaking windows-”

“Just forget it. I’m just tired I guess, I haven't been around people in a month. I probably AM going crazy.”

“Nah, you’ve always been crazy.” He grinned and ruffled Jesse’s hair. 

*********

She sat on the edge of the counter, drinking wine out of a coffee mug. 

“Drinking wine out of anything but a wine class is a punishable crime Amanda.”

“I know, but wine glasses are expensive and useless.” 

The girls were (FINALLY) in bed, and Carisi was washing the dishes, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His dark grey vest was dotted with water spots. Amanda was pretty sure he’d been born in a vest. 

“Sonny, were you born in a vest?” she wasn’t feelin’ subtlety this evening. 

“Yup, you caught me.” He undid the two black buttons and pulled off the offending article of clothing, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it onto the couch. 

“And did you actually leave the house hair-gel-free?”

“I did indeed. Makin’ history over here.” 

He flicked the water off his hands and dried them on an already sopping dishtowel, before flopping down on the couch. She drained her mug, rinsed it out, and followed him. Before she could sit down, he caught her off-guard.

“Amanda?”

“That’s me!”

“I want to tell you...umm…”

“Yes?” something in her chest felt light and fluttery.

“I’m just glad you’re ok. I don’t know what I would have done with no one to cook for.”

“You would’ve just had to buckle down and get yourself a girlfriend.” she had no idea what made her say it, she just did. He looked at her, directly in the eyes, for a good ten seconds. 

“I wouldn’t have. I COULDN’T have.”

“Why not?” she found herself almost whispering.

“Do you want to know?”

She shrugged. She felt her face getting hot and her fingers starting to tingle. 

“‘Manda…” his eyes were storming with fifty different emotions. She could see hope, disappointment, excitement, pain, and what could only be described as the look of a cliffhanger all playing in the pale blue eyes, mixed with a lot of other harder to identify things. 

“Can I say it?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, draw the line up  
> Don't take no more time up  
> Make your mind up  
> I need you to make your mind up, yeah  
> Draw the line up  
> Don't take no more time up  
> Baby you gotta decide something  
> Let me know  
> Baby gon' love me now, now, now, now, now, now  
> Now or never  
> I want you to hold me down, down, down, down, down, down  
> Down forever  
> Said you know I wanna keep you around  
> 'Round forever  
> I want you to love me now, now, now, now, now, now  
> Now or never
> 
> ~Halsey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the fluff we've all been waiting for! This chapter is pure, unfiltered fluff, straight from my overly-romantical imagination to yours. I hope you enjoy!

She looked into those eyes for a long time. Too long. She could tell he was losing hope, making a plan to put the broken pieces back together in the back of his mind. Boiling liquid scalded the back of her eyes, somehow changing to cool as the tears slipped down her face. Why was she crying?!? She had no idea, but she couldn’t help it. She was so close; she felt the closeness in every fiber of her being. Close to hearing the words she longed to hear. Close to something beautiful. Something she needed. Something she wanted. Something GOOD. Close to HIM.  
In that moment the choice seemed almost comically simple. Why had she ever wondered? 

“Yeah. Yeah you can say it.” 

“ILOVEYOU!” The words tumbled out of him all at once, like foam bubbling out of a freshly shaken and uncorked bottle. 

A weight that she didn’t even know had been there lifted off her all at once. She felt light, and warm, and safe. 

“I’ve loved you for years, Amanda. I love you, i love your girls, and I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, or anything.” his confidence wavered for a moment “is...is that ok?”

She actually smiled, a real, completely genuine and uncensored smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s ok.” she was half laughing with relief “I love you too, Sonny. I never let myself admit it but-”  
He was on his feet before she could finish the sentence. He cupped her face in his hand and pressed his mouth to hers. 

The sparks went off in his fingertips. Something in his stomach flipped over and dropped, and his chest felt tight, his breath short. This...this was perfect.

The kiss caught her off guard. She’d brushed off the quick peck in the hospital. She had been drugged, and she figured his relief had just gone to his head. They’d gone on as if nothing had happened. They were partners, they relied on each other, and they couldn’t have sacrificed that for one moment of weakness. This...this was different. 

He lifted her halfway off the ground, and had her back up against the wall in five seconds. 

“Is this ok?” His voice was soft, saturated with a deep longing finally released.

“Yeah that’s ok” she could barely catch enough breath to say it. 

As they deepened the kiss his hands moved to her hips, before he slipped them gently, slowly, under her shirt, till he cupped her ribcage in his hands. 

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah that’s good” If she was being honest, good was an understatement. His touch was gentle in a way no other man’s had ever been. All the others just took what they wanted, at best without asking, at worst violently. His hands on her skin made her body flush with a type of desire she never let herself feel for her partner. Her breath caught as his lips slowly trailed down her face and settled under her jaw. Slowly, deliberately, he traced her throat with his mouth. Shivers ran from her scalp all the way down her spine. 

“Is this ok?” his words vibrated against her skin.

“Oh my god Sonny yes, just hush and kiss me!”

He did.

After a thousand years (about eight minutes) he lifted Amanda into his arms the same way he had when he found her half dead in the woods, one arm under her knees and the other under her back, and fumbled his way into her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and propped himself on one elbow over her, so he could see the moonlight coming through the window reflected in her eyes. 

He hesitated, afraid to go too fast, to rush her. So far he’d asked if everything he was doing was ok, to the point of extreme obnoxiousness; the truth was he was utterly terrified of hurting her in any way, of being the same as all the others. After years of hearing women detail their assaults, from brutal rape to dates gone too far, he was painfully conscious of the damage he could do if he wasn’t careful. Carisi gently brushed strands of hair away from her face. 

“Can I...can we...is it ok…”

Her answer was to pull him down and kiss him, without a shadow of a hesitation or a doubt. 

Sinking was forgotten in the best night either of them could remember.

As it turned out, they taught each other how to swim. 

The whole thing felt perfectly natural, organic, as if everything since Carisi fell into Amanda’s life had been leading up to this exact moment. It was as if they had always been together like this. Like it was inescapable, inevitable in the best way. Like they were just MEANT to be together.

Regardless of how cheesy it sounded, how long the road had been, how perfect everything felt at that moment, it was just a fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like it?? I'm thinking of adding one more chapter...if I did, would y'all read it? Hope you liked the overly detailed fluff:) As you can tell I am quite awful at writing sex scenes so I decided to "fade to black" and keep it PG13. Hope it turned out all right, lol XD This chapter was also very short, please forgive me, I am not great at writing long chapters...I prefer short and cliffhanger-y chapters haha


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be the second last chapter. I'm so so sorry for the ridiculously long gap between the last chapter and this one, I got very busy with coursework and the holidays and then more coursework and just now got around to editing and writing the rest of this story (which got much longer than I expected it to!). I thought I'd like to flesh out the relationship a little more before letting them go, so hopefully two more chapters will do it! I hope you enjoy, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know what you think! I love to hear from y'all:) Have a cracker day, darling!
> 
> Bring me to your house and tell me  
> Sorry for the mess, "Hey I don't mind"  
> You're talking in your sleep, out of time  
> Well you still make sense to me, your mess is mine
> 
> Hold on, darling  
> This body is yours, this body is yours and mine  
> Hold on my darling  
> This mess was yours, now your mess is mine  
> Your mess is mine  
> Your mess is mine
> 
> ~Vance Joy

When he woke up it was still dark. His first thought was that waking with Amanda in his arms was just the ultimate best thing EVER, but the next realization was that she was shaking violently and crying softly. Her eyes were scrunched shut tight, eyelashes damp and the small shaft of moonlight coming through the window showing her face to be shiny with saltwater. 

“‘Manda, you’re ok, you’re safe, it’s all over!” 

He spoke softly into the darkness, gently combing his fingertips through her loose hair.

“Stop! No! I told you to get off me, get off me please just stop it! I said NO!” 

It was obvious that she was still asleep, but her words were clear and sharp with pain. She struggled away from him even in her sleep, as if he was holding her against her will. 

“Amanda, wake up, what’s wrong with you!?”

He took her hand and squeezed it, gently, but hard enough, he hoped, to jolt her out of whatever hellish half-reality she was living in.  
Slowly her eyes fluttered open, and she felt the familiar warm calloused hand covering hers. She felt extremely disoriented, panic still tugging at the corners of her mind, but she was conscious enough to recognize him.  
She relaxed back into his arms, and he pulled her close, whispering semi-inaudible soothing words into her hair. When he could tell she was somewhat composed, he quietly asked

“Was it them?”

She was too drained to lie.

“No it was Patton.”

“Patton? Who’s he?”

“He was my boss in Atlanta. He raped me in exchange for making Kim’s arrest go away.”

She had never put it so bluntly. It hurt, but somehow was an incredible relief. As many times as she had told victims that it wasn’t their fault, that they were no less of a person and deserved no less because of their assaults, when it came to herself she had never been able to shake the feeling of unworthiness. She felt tainted, tarnished. The feeling of worthlessness that she’d briefly been able to shake when she actually believed that Carisi wanted her swept back over her with a vengeance. 

“I told you, I’m not good enough for nice guys. You know you’re gonna think of me differently now. I should have tried harder to fight him off, I should have known, I never should have-”

He cut her off with a long kiss.  
Carisi was honestly shocked at her “confession.” He wondered how many times she had woken from the nightmares alone. How many times she’d relived the trauma when she heard victims describing their assaults in intimate detail. How much this had to do with her constant pushing him away in the past years.  
He kissed her because he knew that would tell her what she needed to hear without trying to blunder around with sleep-drunk words.  
She sighed into the kiss, relief blending with pleasure, exhaustion, and gratitude. She knew right then that she found the right one. 

“‘Manda...how could you believe I’d think any less of you?”

“I don’t know...I know you care about victims but I didn’t think you would want to...you know…”

“Sleep with one?”

“You put it concretely. That, and I knew you’d think of me as wounded for life. I can take care of myself, I don’t hurt anymore.”

He looked at her with poorly hidden skepticism. 

“Clearly having a midnight panic attack about your boss raping you doesn’t signify pain in the slightest.” 

She elbowed him.

“See, you DO understand.”

He combed his fingers through her hair. He couldn’t get over how soft and smooth it was, like textured water. He let a moment of silence pass.

“Amanda...you do know I don’t JUST want to sleep with you, right?”

“Don’t you?”

He shifted away slightly so he could get a good look at her eyes.

“Is that all you think I want? All I think you are? Do you think I’m like that idiot bartender?”

She actually thought for a few seconds. 

“No. No, of course not. I’m what they might call callous and cold and paranoid.”

“Not on the inside.” he actually had the audacity to wink.

“Sonny!” she couldn’t keep an exasperated laugh out of her voice.

“I know I know, my humor is terrible. But...I love you ‘Manda. Don’t you dare think different, alright? Or I’ll just have to figure out more ways to prove it.”

She smiled to herself, but he saw it. 

This...this was...he was...she couldn’t quite get it fixed in her head just what he was. He was just IT. He was what she had been waiting for since age six, when she decided she wanted Prince Charming to show up. Thing was, he wasn’t prince charming. 

He was just Sonny. 

And that was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more? Lmk! 
> 
> Also p.s. I probably butchered the realistic process of detectives and police catching criminals, but we're all here for Rollsi right? If you notice anything I got extremely wrong in terms of technicalities, spelling, or timeline (or anything else lol) lmk:p


End file.
